


Rock The Boat

by SolarPoweredFlashlight



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredFlashlight/pseuds/SolarPoweredFlashlight
Summary: When Riven goes missing and is presumed dead, Katarina decides she needs to distract herself and pays a visit to a certain bounty hunter.





	Rock The Boat

“She’s gone?” Fortune asks, her mouth deep in Kat’s hairline, behind her ear, hands behind the woman’s back and finding familiar clasps. She prides herself on getting all the targets she hunts; this assassin is one she’s found a certain sort of victory over more than once.

“So gone I’m starting to forget what she looks like,” Katarina purrs, sliding her hands down the bounty hunter’s back, to her ass, to her hips, holding them tight while she bucks hard against the leg between her thighs.

Fortune responds with a somehow smug gasp, pressing Katarina harder against the door frame. The timbers groan. “She’s missed you,” she murmurs, kissing and biting and working hungrily with her hands.

“She’s a ship,” Kat replies, chuckling with a thickness in her voice that betrays her desire. “I think you mean _you_ missed me.”

“You’ll find better luck putting things other than words in my mouth,” Fortune promises, her words burning their heat against Kat’s neck in the same moment that the cool air hits her torso, her top tugged free at last. _Fuck_ but she loves aggressive women.

“Will I?” the Noxian growls, suddenly surging forward and flipping Fortune around, back against the cabin door, taking control once more in spite of her shirtless state, seizing the hunter’s wrists in her own hands and pressing them hard against the surface, pressing herself even harder against the woman. Kat kisses her with an urgency that crackles and snarls with impatience and need.

Kat needs to be gone from reality, needs to be incapable of coherent thought, needs to be fucked senseless, emotionless.

And by the blood and blades of Noxus, is Fortune ever the right person to accomplish it.

Fortune fights back with a kiss that starts with the forward lunge of her chin, intercepted by Kat, eyes crushed shut, one delve, all lips, harsh exhale through the nose, the second delve a touch of tongue, on the third a sly press of teeth against lower lip, and when Kat loses herself in that glorious spike of vicious passion Fortune slips her hands free and entwines rope-roughed fingers in sunset red hair.

Fortune takes a step forward, pushing them away from the door, towards the bed, and Kat’s pride resists but her body wants so badly to get there as fast as possible.

Hungry hands find their familiar grips. Katarina caresses the leather hold even as she slips away into another viciously eager kiss, and her hunter must think she’s got the advantage, because she takes another step towards pushing them to the bed. Kat chuckles against her, captures her lower lip with a bite of her own, and then there is a flash of blades and suddenly Fortune’s top seems to be in two pieces and entirely incapable of keeping those lovely breasts of hers hidden.

Kat’s sly move is rewarded with a shuddering breath. “You’re lucky I like you,” growls Fortune, and Kat knows she means it. The sea has swallowed enough of the woman’s enemies that she’s got no reason to doubt her sincerity.

“Very lucky,” Katarina smirks, leaning in to kiss at Fortune’s neck, beginning the process of working her way down.

In a heartbeat she feels the daggers flicked from her grasp, then there are strong hands on her leg, and the floor is gone from beneath her, and she hits the bed with both the impact of being thrown physically and the shock of being thrown mentally.

“Aye,” says Fortune, wicked satisfaction in her face, sidling towards the breathless assassin while unbuckling her belt.

Kat swallows, then grins.

“Not losing your touch are you?” Fortune teases, her pants hitting the floor.

“Come here and find out,” is Katarina’s reply. She positions herself on the bed as if she’d meant to be thrown there, making herself a very inviting vision of beauty. Fortune laughs a low, barking, cocky laugh.

There is a rough masculinity in the way the pirate hunter sidles towards her, eyes fearless, predatory. Kat isn’t afraid; she’s turned on as hell.

At the edge of the bed, Fortune lowers a shoulder and slides out of the remainder of her shirt. Kat slowly and deliberately eyeballs her, starting with her neck and stopping just above her knees.

“Like what you see, kitten?”

“Always do. Since when were you so shy?” Kat chortles, patting the mattress as confidently as if it were her own.

Fortune reaches out, strokes her knuckles up and down Katerina’s leg. “The better question is,” she murmurs, flicking her eyes up at her quarry with a slow smile, “why are you still wearing these?” Her hand grows tight around Kat’s ankle, but this time the Noxian is ready. When Fortune pulls her down the mattress towards her, Kat lunges upwards, and wraps an arm around her bare waist, biting down hard on a hip bone. “Hah,” Fortune grunts, releasing Kat’s foot to hold her face and buck her hips against her.

Kat reaches out with her free hand and drags her nails up the insides of Fortune’s thigh from her knee to her groin. The bounty hunter gasps, gripping her hands hard in auburn hair.

Katarina’s mouth migrates, and fuck she’s so hungry, so impatient, fuck waiting, fuck foreplay, fuck making love and all that bullshit. She finds that wonderful thatch of red curls and immerses herself in it, pressing lips to slick folds and leaning into her, holding her in place with one arm. Fortune vocalizes her approval from where she’s standing at the edge of the bed, pressing Kat’s face in with even more force, trapping her there with the violence of the grip in her hair.

Kat inhales, coming alive with the scent of her fuck-buddy’s arousal. She closes her eyes and pours all of her animal need into the insistent, expert circles she’s drawing with her tongue. The woman snarling and bucking against her just escalates the pace. Her mind finally shuts off, and all that is exists is the clit firm against her lips and tongue and the slide of skin against her cheeks. The rhythmic forward pulse of her chin is matched and clashed against by the thrust of Fortune’s hips, and at times bone meets, trapping flesh between, but it only serves to drive their passions and inflame their need.

“Hnrg,” Fortune groans, gripping painfully tight, thrusting painfully hard, but Kat can only respond by driving the flat of her tongue hard against her at a fast, steady pace, because fuck, she knows Sarah likes it that way, knows how it undoes her when she switches and can keep it up to that unrelenting tempo. The way the woman writhes against her with fresh fervor lights her blood on fire with pleasure.

 _That’s right you fuckin’ like it, I know what I’m fuckin’ doing,_ snarls something feral and immensely self-satisfied inside of Katarina.

“Oh, _yes_ ,” the hunter hisses, slamming forward with ruthless need. They’re gripping each other as if either one has any plans of escape, as if the escape isn’t right here, right now. “Yeah, just like that, don’t stop.”

As if, as-fucking-if, Kat thinks, relishing the pain at her scalp and the pain in her jaw and the feel of the renowned, feared, respected woman sweating and shuddering and swearing under her touch.

When her detractors say she wields her tongue like a third dagger, they probably don’t mean it quite like this. That won’t stop Kat from mastering this secret blade of hers.

As she feels Fortune start to hit the edge of an orgasm, she wraps both arms around her thighs, digging in her nails, throwing her face into each new pass, slamming herself against her. The captain holds herself upright by the roots of Katarina’s hair, shuddering, trembling, until she’s all but drained dry – no, not dry, anything but dry, and the moisture coating Kat’s chin is proof enough of that.

Kat waits for Fortune’s hands to shakily release their hold on her hair before she releases her legs. The woman all but collapses on the bed, breathing hard. Kat twists to smirk down at her, and Fortune slowly, slowly opens her eyes to smirk back.

“You’re bleedin’, kitten,” she croaks smugly.

Katarina wipes her mouth and inspects her hand. So she is. Her lower lip feels swollen. Must have caught her lip between her teeth and Fortune’s pelvis one too many times.

If she thinks this will tire the bounty hunter, she’s wrong.

“Now, what about these pants of yours?” Fortune whispers, sliding a hand up and down Kat’s side. Katarina smiles and hums, leaning back a little into the touch, indulging in the pleasure of skin on skin.

“What, don’t you like them?”

“I like them well enough,” the woman says, hooking two fingers under the waistline of the leather bottoms, “but they’re in my way. And you know I don’t let anything stand in my way.”

“Oh, I know,” Kat chuckles, twisting on the bed and flipping a leg over to the other side of Fortune’s waist, straddling her. “So how is it you’re taking so long to get rid of them?”

Fortune laughs, her knuckles brushing up and down Katarina’s stomach. “Ah, go wreck y’self,” she retorts, her voice gravel and smoke. She leans up and Kat leans down and they kiss again, slower now, enjoying themselves. Fortune’s hands find the belt buckle and have it undone in one jerking movement – Kat leaves her own hands to bear the weight of her arms as she leans in to get her fill of kissing this fucking gorgeous woman.

Hell, she’ll even help her out a little with a sly writhe of her midsection - perfectly timed to help questing hands push the leather past her hips.

“Hm,” Fortune laughs against the caress of her mouth. Her nails rake ten sharp lines of fuck-yes-fuck-me up Katarina’s lower back, and she can’t help but groan in reply. The kissing sharpens the pulse of pain in her lip where the blood must be coming from. Even with her pants halfway down her thighs, Fortune chooses to trail her fingers up her torso and toy much too gently with her breasts.

“Fuck,” Kat hisses, “just fuck me already you sentimental idiot.”

“Begging already?” Fortune murmurs from underneath of her, pure patronizing satisfaction.

“Just - !” whatever Kat is about to say never gets finished, because Fortune rolls her over onto her back, slides down her with a dangerous grin, and wrenches the rest of her clothing down to her ankles and then, finally, fucking _finally_ , completely off.

Fortune is apparently done with words. She bites her way back up Kat’s leg, leaving red marks at her ankle, her calf, her knee, her thigh. Her talented, wonderfully ruthless mouth finds the spot between Katarina’s thighs that feels like it must be radiating heat by this point, it’s so badly in need of attention, and oh, _motherfucking swords of Noxus_ it feels fantastic when finally the warm attention of Fortune’s lips descends upon her.

It doesn’t take much and soon she’s bucking, her hand reaching down to find a hold in Fortune’s hair.

But Sarah bats the hand away, and draws her head back, smirking. Kat gasps for air as she glares at her for stopping. What is she - ?

The bounty hunter quirks an eyebrow at her, makes a gun shape with her hand, and kisses the two-fingered barrel. Kat exhales shakily and flicks her eyes very deliberately from Fortune’s fingers down to where she’s expecting she plans to use them.

“You got a license for that weapo – ohn,” – and fuck, Fortune wastes no time, she’s apparently done with banter, she’s knuckle deep and repositioned herself with a leg between Kat’s and that leg is helping to power the thrusts of her hand while she marks Kat’s collarbone with her mouth.

Hells, and there’s no room for the thought required to be a smartass anymore with Fortune deep inside of her and fucking her like tonight is her last night on Runeterra. Kat can’t even bring herself to care that she’s going to have a huge, livid hickey on her neck in the morning. Maybe several of them. Fuck, she can’t even tell anymore, all she knows is there’s blissful sharp warmth and sensation on her neck and that long hair is cascading over her shoulder and her nipples and the rhythm of her fingers is perfect and unrelenting.

There’s nothing quite like getting laid by a Bilgewater captain.

Their hips rock together in unison, and Kat tries to collect her thoughts beyond a string of cusses and the pleasure of the woman’s confident strokes. She tries, drawing nails up and down Fortune’s bared back, striving to match the resonating bursts of pleasure in her body with a touch of her own, but her lover for the night picks up the pace in response and she finds herself succumbing to the feeling.

It’s all she can do to hang on to Fortune’s shoulders while the snarling, smirking bounty hunter pounds her into the mattress and, with an expert curl of her index finger and slip of the thumb against her clit, brings her thudding recklessly towards the kind of mind-destroying orgasm she hasn’t had in a good long while.

She’s shaking already, and for a moment she feels weak and helpless and she hates it, she draws away mentally and starts to throw up icy shields between herself and this pleasure. Her heavy breathing becomes flat, her relaxed limbs tense, and all she can think about is what a stupid idea this was, how she’ll never fucking get off like this, trying to sleep with someone who’ll try to control her, try to own her. Nothing changes in Fortune’s technique but suddenly the sensation feels dulled and her thoughts are distant, disengaged, and she’s not having fun anymore.

Her body language gives her away.

Fortune slows and then stops, sits up to peer at her, and then leans in to kiss her on the lips. Gathering information, maybe, because after Kat’s lackluster reaction to the kiss she withdraws her fingers.

Katarina almost sighs. She’s expecting concern, or worse, pity. Instead she gets a firm hand on her hip and one under her arm, on her shoulder, and then she’s flipped again – this time so that Fortune is the one pinned on her back.

Hm. Okay. Kat smirks.

Fortune grabs her be the waist and leans in, traps a nipple in her mouth, and rolls it around in teeth and tongue and lips, and okay fuck that feels amazing and Kat slips again, slips away from the pedestal where her thoughts had started to perch to watch things from afar, starts to lose herself in hedonistic pleasure once more.

Katarina steadies herself, knees on the mattress on either side of Fortune’s thighs, pressing and rubbing them together at the groin like the most wonderfully obscene handshake. The captain gasps and releases the nipple, panting hard against Kat’s breast. The blood begins to dance again in Kat’s veins, and this time she rejects the controlling whims of her pride and insecurity and revels in looking down upon the woman who has taken her to bed.

Fortune tilts her head upwards and then kisses the spot where the underside of Kat’s jaw meets the column of her throat. It’s a slow, sharkish kiss, one that seems to enjoy the beat of Katarina’s accelerated pulse. Then she settles back against the already sweaty sheets and smirks up at Kat, moving her hips in sync, happy to continue their dance from whatever position keeps Kat interested.

She doesn’t ask permission; her hands slide down Katarina’s stomach and her thumb finds her clit again, resuming measured circles that mark a thumping drumbeat of building ecstasy. Kat tilts her head back, riding the woman’s hand, at ease again, letting go and just enjoying herself, thrusting along to the pace Fortune’s smoothly re-established.

The woman is staring up at her with that ever-smug grin, and this time Kat isn’t surprised when she introduces the fingers. Katarina responds by grinding down enthusiastically on them, pressing Fortune’s hand back against her own clit, and the ragged sound she utters in reply is just what the assassin needs to throw herself back into it entirely and start slamming herself down on those convenient fingers, using Fortune for her own pleasure, taking the reins and driving up the intensity from nine to Noxian.

Their lazy fuck leaps like lightning into a frantic, sweaty, messy blur of humping hips and resonating shockwaves of pleasure. Kat closes her eyes and throws everything away but the multiplying magnitudes of pure bliss pouring through her from her core. Her every thrust becomes a desperate, needy crack of sole-on-soil in a footrace towards orgasm, and it roars up through her and down her and within her and out of her and the Kat who was completely disinterested in this a minute ago is the ghost of a past self she no longer gives two shits about.

They’re both crying out now, both huffing and groaning and swearing, and she’s so close, she’s almost there, she’s over the edge and all of her is shaking uncontrollably and lost to the world because holy _fuck_ it feels amazing. She comes, and she comes _hard_ – harder than she can remember coming in months, and Kat is not exactly what you would call celibate.

She slides down on top of the woman, sticky and still trembling just a little. Their hearts are pounding and she can feel them clanking their backbeat conversation between clammy chests. Fortune spreads her arms out on either side of her, as if to stabilize them. Kat repositions her legs ever so slightly and feels how completely coated Fortune’s groin is with the by-product of their activities.

Beneath her, the woman gives a low, satisfied groan.

Katarina wholeheartedly concurs.


End file.
